The nail that sticks out
by Addy01
Summary: Some stars just burnt far too brightly. For Edogawa Conan, it attracted the worst possible attention. Or the repercussions that should have happened at the end of The Raven Chaser. [Poirot Cafe's Prompt Exchange #5 - Gin, Vodka and hand grenade (explosions or otherwise)]. Beta'd by Semi-Retired Writer!


Warning: Spoiler to The Mystery Train Arc. Minor coarse Language. T-rating

Beta'd by Semi-Retired Writer!

Enjoy!

* * *

In a small corner at the back of his mind, - where there was no one to lie to but to himself - Gin could honestly admit that he had thought his life was about to come to a screeching halt the night of that disastrous incident at the Touto Tower.

One moment, they were just doing a routine clean up, tying up the loose ends that Irish had left littered behind him.

And the next, a projectile came shooting from ground zero and crashed into the back of the helicopter, sending them tumbling down like flies to swatters.

He didn't know how he managed to navigate through the burning debris left from the crash site with the injuries he had sustained; or how he had managed to get himself to safety before the last drop of blood could bleed out of him.

All he knew was that he had spent weeks afterwards staring – glaring - at the blank white walls of his own bedroom while recovering from his wounds, the cogs in his mind turning and churning as he tried to process everything that had transpired that night.

 _To be able to take down the helicopter with virtually nothing...to have thought of and created a contraption that could easily destroy a helicopter with such precision and efficiency...and to be able to execute it so swiftly and successfully under those circumstances..._

 _Where has this monster been hiding…_

To think someone like that actually existed...and was against them. The mere thought had shaken him to the core...and for the first time, he could feel himself shivering in genuine fear. He hadn't thought that they would need to worry about another Silver Bullet so soon after they had just gotten rid of the last one.

 _Is this the real Silver Bullet that's actually going to bring Us down to Our knees?_

This threat...this threat needed to be eradicated immediately. This was not something that they could ever afford to let loose, especially when it had already bitten them in the arse once. He was all charged up to hunt down that menace and string them up until all that was left wastheir sweet begging for mercy.

Then, 'That Person' gave him the assignment...

And he couldn't keep that grin off his face after he had finished reading the files…

This...this was much, much better that he had planned; better than he had hoped for even. It even made up for the fact that he had to work with that shuddersome Bourbon for this assignment.

Edogawa Conan...To think a mere child had caused all that...

A sharp beep pulled him away from his thoughts, alerting him to their new arrival...

Ah...It seemed that Bourbon had successfully implemented his part of the plan.

Gin leaned forward closer to the monitor, his attention zooming straight to the corner of the screen, spotting a shadow with stature far too small to belong to anyone but a child, lurking a few feet behind and tailing Bourbon into the warehouse.

 _Hmm...Good distance...The boy had kept himself very well hidden. And with the way he was surveying his environment – alert, observant – the brat had even managed to spot the other cameras and avoided their line of sight._

 _But still too young, too raw...Too bad about that shadow._

All things considered, the boy had performed splendidly.

 _Smart, far too smart..._

"But at the end of the day, he is just a child." A grin slowly creep onto this face, being far too elated to contain his glee that his prey fell so neatly into his traps.

* * *

The soft clanking of footsteps echoed through the abandoned factory as he spotted Amuro Touro slowly making his way to the middle of the empty floor space. A lone flickering bulb hanging overhead provided the only light in the area.

Conan held his breath and continued to survey the man from behind the crates and empty boxes that lined the walls, making sure to avoid drawing attention to himself. The silence was so deafening that any minute movement was amplified, and he could hear the rapid, nervous beating of his heart pounding thunderously against his ears.

He had been caught off guard when Amuro, or Bourbon, as he had learned not long ago, had appeared right back into his role of Sleeping Korogo's apprentice and as Poirot Cafe's waiter after the Mystery Train debacle as if he never left. He had thought with Sherry finally 'neutralised', the man would have moved on to his next assignment and would leave them in peace.

If the man was still here, that meant that there were still...loose ends.

Loose ends that Conan needed to make sure he cleaned up before the man had caught on. He clenched his fist at the thought as he tried to push down the dread and worry that was slowly pooling within him.

Were all those efforts—recruiting Kaitou KID, throwing Bourbon and Vermouth off their scent—was all of that a wasted effort? Was he just delaying the inevitable?

 _No! It can't be... It mustn't be!_

Which was why he had followed the man to the abandoned factory, despite his instincts constantly whispering to 'Get Away' from there – capital letters and all. Even if the prospect of this man giving him the key to bringing the Organisation down and finally becoming free from this double life didn't do much to soothe his internal turmoil.

Besides, he couldn't afford to drop this, not when he couldn't be sure that Haibara was safe, that they had finally stopped hunting her down.

So, a compromise - he just needed to be careful and stick to the plan: _stay hidden, collect the evidence and get out of there._

It should have been that simple.

Seconds ticked by and the man continued to wait in the middle of the room, one hand hanging lazily in his pocket, his attention on his phone. The tilt of his lips...It's as if...

 _As if everything was going according to plan..._

And then, as if hit with a sledgehammer, Conan had been jerked out of his self-imposed trance, the muted murmured warnings that had been floating at the back of his mind had transformed to hysterical cries as his instinct was now screaming at him:

 _'Get away. Get away. GET AWAY FROM HERE NOW!'_

 _A trap! He could see it with such clarity now. What an idiot he was! Had he been so disillusioned by the prospect of bring the Organisation down that he had blindly charged into danger?_

Look at where he had landed himself in the last time he hadn't listened to his instincts: drugged and regressed physically into a seven-year-old.

Just as he was about to turn tail and retreat, Amuro suddenly pivoted. Conan quickly backed himself into the crates. From the acoustics, he could tell that the man had turned towards his direction.

What came out of his mouth next...he realised it was already far, far too late...

"I'm so sorry, Conan-kun."

Before he could react, the familiar sweet, cloying smell of chloroform filled his lungs as he felt a rough fabric pressed over the lower half of his face.

Conan quickly held his breath, trying his best not to let any more of the toxic particles get into his system.

And maybe, just maybe, he could hold onto his consciousness for a few more of those precious seconds longer if it ensured his survival.

However, it was utterly useless, since his child body had neither the strength nor the leverage to escape the death grip of the man. Moreover, he couldn't reach his ankles to activate his shoes and the person had held such a tight grip on his left hand, covering his tranquillizer watch – _they knew about it!_ -, taking it out of commission as well.

 _Think! Shinichi, think!_

With the last of his strength, he made a last ditch effort to struggle for one last time, and with all the luck in the world, his finger managed to snag on a metal ring _\- A grenade! So it was his death they're after! -_ , and he hoped, sincerely hoped, that if he was going down today, he was going to bring as many of those blasted men down with him as possible.

* * *

Vodka had barely managed to unclasp the grenade from his belt in time the moment he saw the smoke rising from his peripheral vision. As it fell clattering onto the ground, he quickly put a considerable distance away with the now unconscious, light-weight in toll.

It was just a normal smoke grenade, but he couldn't risk getting the kid with it.

 _Oh good God! Aniki was right! This rascal...he knew what he was doing when he pulled that grenade!_

Imagine if it hadn't been a smoke grenade instead... _That's the last time he'd ever come for an assignment over-prepared._

"Good job Vodka...Bourbon."

"Aniki!" he snapped his head toward the man just in time to see the silver-haired man stepping out of the control room in his usual suave, slow stride, completely unconcerned about that small hiccup as if it hadn't happened.

 _Oh good, he hadn't screwed up that much then._

"Come Vodka. Let's get the boy out of here, 'That Person' wants him alive and healthy. And after that, remember to send 'clean up'." His long silver hair swayed as he turned and headed towards the Porsche.

"Gin!" that came out sharp and rude, like Bourbon had always been. Even the way he extended his arm out as if asking – demanding - for something was probably intentionally disrespectful.

"Ah yes… Of course." Gin responding by throwing a small object towards Bourborn.

Who had caught it - a USB? - in one clean swipe.

"That should contain all the information you need. Make sure it doesn't go to waste." And in the blink of an eye, Bourbon disappeared from the warehouse, as if he was never there in the first place.

 _Hmmmff! He could have at least said 'thank you'._

"Don't worry yourself with that irritating man, Vodka. We have got more important things to attend to." and he punctuated that sentence by flicking his cigarette onto the floor.

"It's time to implement 'Project Phoenix'."

* * *

Ran couldn't explain the uneasiness in her heart that hung around like heavy rain clouds since she bade the boy goodbye that morning.

There hadn't been anything unusual that day. She had woken up, made breakfast for her father and pseudo little brother, and dropped him off at his school before heading for her own. There was nothing to suggest that anything out of the ordinary would happen.

 _So why did it feel like that was the last time she'll ever get to see Conan-kun?_

Then, Conan-kun didn't return home for dinner.

His friends had been the last to see him, who had walked together on their way home, before they went on their separate ways. And no one had seen him since.

Even with the boy's tendency to disappear on them, Conan, at the very least, had always been reachable by phone. They had enough close calls that the boy had made the effort to be contactable at all times.

But the phone just kept on ringing, with the last call heading straight to voice mail.

And that had been an hour ago.

She couldn't explain the chill that had clasped her heart when she realised Conan-kun hadn't returned home yet. Or understand why this time felt so much different from the last few times the boy had landed into trouble.

Her father, usually nonchalant about Conan-kun's welfare, was worried as well – evidenced in the way he had been wearing a hole on the floor with his pacing. As if even he himself hadn't believed his own assurance that the boy was probably up to his usual mischievous ways, and that he'd contact Megure-Keibu in a couple of hours if the boy hadn't returned.

Then, the dreaded knock on the door startled them out of their seats. Ran quickly made a dash towards the door.

 _No. Not Conan-kun. He never knocks. Never needed to knock._

"...Megure-Keibu? H-how? Is this about Conan-kun?"

Please! Please let it not be about him! Conan-kun hadn't even been missing for that long...

However, one look from Megure-Keibu, she knew that their worst fears were founded. But she held on onto the last strain of hope, - her sanity couldn't afford to - until she heard the words that came out of his mouth.

"I am so sorry to tell you, but Conan-kun… He's dead. There was an explosion at an abandoned factory, and we...we found his body..."

It was as if the rug had been pulled away from under her, Ran didn't...couldn't hear anything more after as her legs gave away and she collapsed onto the floor.

 _She didn't hear her father's vehement denials that the Gaki couldn't have died, that he had more lives than a cat could ever have._

 _She didn't hear how they had to restrain her father, as he attempted to fight his way out of their house._

 _She didn't hear how her loud sobs had turned into hysterical cries as she reached for her phone and dialed the two numbers that would never ever be answered again._

All she could hear was how her heart had broken, as if the most important person in the world had been stolen away from her…

And how the subsequent unanswered calls to that certain number only cemented the truth that she had subconsciously known all along, and she'd never, ever be able to get him back ever again.

* * *

Gin hadn't thought that it was possible for someone so young to hold so much such potential.

The last time the Organisation had gotten their hands on such a gem, it had been that traitorous Sherry. And they had wasted the opportunity when they had let her retain her ties with her family.

Those traitorous lots…

Just as well...the Organisation wouldn't be making the same mistake again with Edogawa Conan.

That extraction plan had taken months of planning to make sure that they used the most efficient and cleanest method to 'recruit' the boy – especially since the boy had a penchant, or the smarts, to get out of danger rather well. And that was only after much research and deliberation from 'That Person' to determine the best way to deal with the boy - that file had contained far too extensive notes on the boy that displayed the rare times that 'That Person' had been enchanted by a prospective recruit.

 _To be impressive enough to evoke such a reaction from 'Him'._

And weren't they lucky that they managed to remove the boy from the FBI's hold.

What a god-send the boy was, it would have been waste to get rid of such potential when the return for this particular investment would be a hundred fold.

 _Such an enigma...Such a treasure...How lucky were they that the heavens above had chosen to bless them with such a reward..._

They just had to make sure to sink their claws deep into the boy until...He'd never, ever be able to let go, no matter how much he tried.

* * *

He had long lost track of the time since he first woke up and found himself in this room. The windowless four white walls and a small toilet cubicle had been his only company for the majority of the time he was there. He could hardly remember a time when sunlight had last kissed his now pale skin, let alone telling day from night.

Leaving him effectively cut off from the rest of the world.

That didn't matter though. All that mattered was that he had to get through this... nightmare.

Despite barely emitting any light, the overhead lamp was far too bright for his eyes, stinging into the back of his retinas whenever he could master the effort to open them a little. It worsened the ever-present, throbbing migraine that just never seemed to subside. The sting from the multiple injections he was given remained as he fidgeted on the uncomfortable concrete slab that he was lying on.

That had been the extent of the physical torture they had imposed on him. In fact, he would have welcomed the pain from physical torture. That's would have been easy to deal with compared to...this horror.

No. What was rendering him utterly useless were the drugs that they had pumped into him since the first day he was abandoned in this room.

The cocktail of drugs - he had managed to catch a snippet of the conversation around him before he descended into the whirlpool of a prison in his own mind - that they had injected into him was supposed to strip him of his free will and thoughts, making him more susceptible to their suggestions with increased dosage and exposure.

And it was working...he could hardly think straight on the best of days. The cocktail and adrenaline created havoc in his body with uncomfortable heat and heart burn whenever he managed to get out of the effects that the drugs had on his mind.

The serum created hallucinations that drew inspirations from his worst fears, twisting his memories, palms sweating at the sight of imaginary terror. At other times, the dope turned his nightmare to dreams come true - dreams he had been yearning for; dreams that had been out of his reach. Until he woke up and found that hope had been snatched away from him yet again – and the cycle of emotional turbulence and mental trauma began anew.

Which had made their 'promise' sound so appealing as the drug wore on him – just as they had hoped.

Promises to end all his suffering if he could agree to hand over his life to them.

He knew that was a lie. The internal turmoil and suffering would just multiply if he accepted the...alternative that they presented to him. Even a real seven-year-old would have easily seen through their empty promises.

But the fact that the drug was clearly working...that terrified him. And they wouldn't stop. Not until he had accepted their offer of a 'new' life with open arms.

Like he would ever let that happen.

At least they hadn't found out he was Kudo Shinichi – they would have killed him on the spot if they'd discovered that bit of information. Or they would have put him through far, far worse then what he's gone through already.

At least he's still alive…

Kudo Shinichi - his true identity. That's probably the only thing that's holding him together.

The last strand that's keeping him sane and letting him keep on fighting off the drugs in his system, no matter how much they tried increasing the dosage.

No matter how much the cocktail made it so... alluring...to just give in….

No! He need… He just needed to get through this...He just needed to remember...to remember that...

 _'I am Kudo Shinchi. I just need to find a way to escape...I am Kudo Shincihi, I will not fall into their hands...I am Kudo Shinichi...I just need to bide my time…_

 _'For my parents, for Hakase, for Hattori, for the kids, for Occhan…_

 _'For Ran..._

 _'I am Kudo Shinichi, I will not let them win..._

 _'Never...'_

* * *

Owari

Note: Was telling Taliya that I should have known this prompt was from her – since I ended up torturing poor Conan-kun. XD

Thanks for the wonderful inspirational prompt, Taliya! This was a fun write, even though my brain was charred by the end of it. XP


End file.
